


Too Little Too Late

by lavenderhoneymndes



Category: Shawn Mendes (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-03-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23396680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderhoneymndes/pseuds/lavenderhoneymndes
Summary: Shawn's fucked up and want's to make it better...but it's already too late.
Relationships: Shawn Mendes/Reader, Shawn Mendes/You, Shawn/Reader, You/Shawn
Kudos: 12





	Too Little Too Late

You knew before you even opened the door. You knew he would be standing there, a smug smirk on his face, leaning against the door frame, before your hand even made contact with the doorknob. You had hoped that it would be someone else, literally anyone else, but of course, it wasn’t. Because right as you opened the door there he was in all his smug, arrogant glory. All you do is let out a sigh, and fold your arms across your chest. 

“What are you doing here?”

After the way things ended, you made a vowed to never speak to Shawn again. For your own good. Your relationship complicated and when your judgment wasn’t clouded by that curly-headed asshole, you were well aware of how unhealthy it all was. One minute you were in love, the next you couldn’t stand to be in the same room with one another, and then after that your fucking like nothing ever happened, with passion you’d never experienced in your life. It was exhausting. For both of you. But even knowing that a part of you craved it. You wanted the chaos, the uncertainty. Your life was always so boring, or so you thought. You’ve never…lived. Your life has always been planned out, you never strayed from your routine, and Shawn gave you something you never knew you could have. An adventure, a challenge. Just something….different. And different was good, for a while, until it wasn’t fun. It was work, and headache and just one more anxiety-inducing thing on your already long list of triggers. 

“I just felt like I needed to see you,” he smirks

“Well you’ve seen me.” you close the door, but he jams his foot in stopping you from closing it any further. 

“No, wait. I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what Shawn. There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“We have plenty to talk about.” He smirks and you cock your head to the side,

“Have you completely forgotten what we’ve said to each other in the last week? Have you completely lost your mind.” 

“No, I remember. Which is exactly why we need to talk.” your not sure what it is about the way the words leave his lips. Or maybe its the look in his eye that does it, something that seemed almost genuine. Regardless, you were losing your resolve and he could see it in your eyes. Your grip on the door loosened and he smirked,“Are you going to let me in?” 

Without saying a word, you step aside and open the door allowing him to slide inside. Without missing a beat, he’s moving past you taking a seat on your coach. You don’t say anything about how he completely makes himself at home, but something in your stomach twists at how comfortable he is at your place. With you. Even after everything he still has it in his mind that everything is fine. That things will go back to normal. That you will get back into your routine, and things will be as they always were. Toxic and dysfunctional. 

You walk over to the couch, standing in front of the coffee table, arms across your chest.“What do you want.” 

“I told you I wanted to talk.”

“And I told you there is nothing left to say.”

“I’m sorry.” He says sighs. 

“No. We are not doing this again -” 

“Will you hear me out.” He gripes, leaning back into the couch. How could he be so calm? As if he didn’t rip your heart out of your chest and into a million pieces. How could he act like your the problem. Your the one causing an inconvenience because you’re finally standing up for yourself. The longer that he was there the more your blood began to boil. But still, you kept your tone calm but strong, and steady, refusing to back down. 

“No. I’m done. We agreed we are done doing this. We can’t keep going back and forth. I’m tired. I don’t have it in me to keep fighting for this anymore.” 

And with those words, everything in Shawn shifts. He sees it in your eyes, he hears it in your voice. 

You’d given up. 

He pushed too hard, went too far and now you were done. Truly and really done. 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“Jesus Christ Shawn! You can’t keep doing that.”

“Doing what?” 

“Telling me how I feel. Assuming things, instead of actually listening to what I’m trying to tell you. How do you think we got here in the first place.” 

“I’m not - I.” he stopped taking a deep breath to compose himself. “What I’m trying to say is that I fucked up. Severely. I get that, and I’m sorry but I swear, on everything that I’m done playing the games, okay? I want you, and I can admit that now.” 

“Now? Shawn, you’ve had months. Months, to figure this out. I gave you time. I gave you the space, that you asked for by the way. And when it came down to you you decided that I-” you felt the lump in your throat forming and you hated it. You were always an angry crier and the last thing you wanted was to let him see you cry. You’d cried enough tears over this stupid immature boy and the last thing you wanted was for him to see you fall apart all over again. “You decided that I wasn’t worth it. That your friends and your reputation or whatever was more important than our relationship. And that’s fine. I’ve come to terms with that. But what you do not get to do, is come barging in here, with a change of heart like some kind of prince charming and think that I will just change my mind and forget all those things you said and everything you did. Because I can’t Shawn. You hurt me.” 

You broke me. 

“I know and I’m -” 

“No, you don’t.” 

It was a constant game of cat and mouse with Shawn. And at first, it was fun, chasing each other and sneaking around. You enjoyed being his little secret. Because he dressed it up to be romantic. As if what you had was special, and he didn’t want it to be tainted by anything outside of your little bubble. The reality was much different and the longer you were in that sweet little bubble the more clear it became what it really was. He was hiding you. Not only that but he was so concerned about everyone else, and their judgments that he kept pushing you away, just to pull you back in again. And in between the things that he would say…the fights you would have. It was all just too much. 

“What do I have to do? Just tell me that. Tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me and I’ll do it. Anything.” 

“There’s nothing you can do Shawn. I gave you chances. I’m tired of giving you chances. You made your choice.” 

“Honey.” 

“Don’t.” You seeth, whipping around, finger in his face

“Just one more chance. I’m just asking for one more chance, and I’ll prove to you that I’m different.” 

“Different? It’s been a week Shawn.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been doing a lot of thinking at that time and I’m different. I have…perspective.” 

“Perspective. Right, okay then enlighten me,” you say sitting down on the couch, crossing your legs. “Please tell me what you’ve discovered over the past week.” 

He’s taken aback by your demeanor. He’s never seen you so…angry. But it’s not rage, its pure hurt. 

“Well for one I know I was a dick.” he sighs, and you let out a dramatic huff. Any other time he would have stopped, gone on about your attitude and it would turn into a massive blow-up fight, but he didn’t say a word, just continued in a slow, calming voice as he could muster “I let other people influence my decisions and I shouldn’t have. I was disrespectful, and I said things I should have never have said. I took you for granted and I just…I was terrible to you. And I’m going to change that. I’ll do everything in my power to change that and to make it up to you.” 

Everything he said, he said with such sincerity, you knew he meant it. For all his faults, Shawn was above else honest. He said what was on his mind and he never backed down from his own beliefs. So as he spoke, you knew he meant every word. And it was everything you’d ever wanted to hear from him. Just for him to admit his faults, that’s it. And now that he’s in front of you pouring his heart out in the best way that he knows how, stumbling and reaching for words…you felt nothing. 

“And so what, all of this is just supposed to make me feel better?” 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” 

“Than what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I recognize my mistakes and I am willing to work on it if you’ll let me.”

“You can work on them all you want Shawn, but not with me.” He looks at you, and then down at his shoes, before meeting your eyes again, and you see a flash of something you’ve never seen before in them. Shame. And for a moment you want to believe him. You want to belive that he’s changed, or that he is at least on the road to change. You want to sit down next to him and talk things through. You want to go back, you want to fix it. But you can’t. And you shouldn’t. “I think you should leave.” 

He doesn’t put up a fight, just nods his head and stands up, “Yeah.” He straightens out his leather jacket and follows you to the door. You open the door and he slowly shuffles outside, before turning to you one last time. 

“I’m going to be better. I swear, I’ll be better.” 

“Goodnight Shawn.”


End file.
